


Whimsicality

by godxspeed



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, Relationship of Convenience, gon is too sweet for his own good, killua is an heir and hates it, killua is too rebellious for his own good, rating will go up hehhehehehe, whale island
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-09
Updated: 2016-09-07
Packaged: 2018-08-07 18:51:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 17,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7725856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/godxspeed/pseuds/godxspeed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After devising a capricious plan with a stranger he met in the jungle, Killua secures a business partner and an accidental boyfriend. The perfect answer to all his prayers.</p><p>But of course simplicity never lasts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Big breath in.

Big breath out.

Repeat until worked.

Killua continued to inhale and exhale, arching his back and puffing out his chest. His silver brows worked to wring together, only to cement a crease where they could not possibly meet. 

If he could see himself, he’d more than likely laugh.

Standing amongst tropical shrubbery and palm trees, he was half-assedly committing to an attempt at meditation. And, with his finely tailored suit—a deep shade of black so contrasting to the vibrant green around him, it was offensive—he looked like a frenzied man trying to regain composure before calling off his own wedding.

In a dry, awful sort of way, what he’d barely escaped was alike a wedding; for a wedding was a joyous joining of two parties in love. However, in a more accurate version of this scenario, Killua would be the one forced into it, gulping and second-guessing his life choices while the other party would be the overbearing partner who would not take ‘no’ for an answer.

It was nearly sickening how perfectly the analogy fit into his life—so much so, that a wry smile was forming on his lips at the very thought. His family and all their guests who wore their money like poignant cologne wanted in on his life while he wanted out of theirs. 

If only ‘getting out’ was as easy as calling off a wedding would be—murmuring a room-stilling, shock-inducing _‘No, I don’t’_ before pews of guests and a hopeful fiancé. No, the complexities laced into his situation were much more intense.

The only way out of his particular predicament— _alive—_ was if he faked his own death. _Probably_. 

Even though his mind was much more rational than that, he couldn’t help but tumble into such a mindset. And, it always left him daydreaming, wondering. Constructing plans that would probably never be carried out.

Even now, he was finding himself falling into that familiar, lulling trance. Peering out over this vast, green lawn that stretched out before him. Killua’s lucid, blue eyes could practically see his most treasured daydreams playing out like a montage, the perfectly trimmed grass merely serving him as a white canvas would a projector. 

Awed, he watched these scenes that typically overtook his mind. Him breaking away and doing whatever he wanted, going wherever he wanted— _being whoever he wanted._

These images were so close—spanning from the very tips of his polished, black shoes—so _real_ and so vivid in color, he felt that they really were within arm’s reach. But, nevertheless, his aforementioned, rational mind slowly worked to fade these brilliant visions. Close and real, yes, but he understood they were also too distant and foolish to be taken as anything but a persuasive mirage.

The glossy glaze of wonder disappeared from his eyes just as these scenes melted back into the earth, leaving behind a bland carpet of green and a silent version of himself. 

Usually, he’d sigh, turn back around and face the doom that had become a regularity in his life. But, today was different. Today was a big day for him, as he was told. So, today, he didn’t feel like he could follow such an ordinary routine.

No. Today… he wouldn’t. Instead, today, he would pretend.

He’d pretend none of this mattered and he’d run off and feel something new—something invigorating. 

With a hesitantly eager laugh, and after a single glance casted over his shoulder at the daunting mansion behind him, Killua took off.

He ran, pushing the stiff materials of his suit to its limits as it stretched to accommodate bodily movements it was not sewn up for. He was always a fast runner—had always been athletic. He was across the lawn and over the fence lining the outskirts of his property within moments. Sticking his landing flawlessly.

He almost wished he’d blundered, tearing a hole through his jacket, just to spite his parents. But, this disappointment ebbed when he realized this stunt would pull some frowns from their mouths, anyway.

So, he continued on.

 

\- - -

 

Whale Island was a place that knew no rain, and only sun. It was humid and green with a curtain of blue drawn all around it—the blue of the ocean, the blue of the sky. Killua took in all the scenery he could before darting off the designated pathway and into the sheathing forest of island trees and brush.

It was thrilling! It was fun! Hopping over overgrown roots, ducking under low hanging leaves and the petals of flowers taller than he’d ever seen. He was wide-eyed like a child, head swiveling to and fro to catch a glimpse of big-beaked birds that swept past, an animal—that looked like a mix of a monkey and a raccoon—climbing up a tree. To see all the unique colors around him that probably hadn’t yet a name.

The canopy of green above him alit his black attire with speckles of warmth and light as if he were caught in a kaleidoscope. 

His cheeks were burning, something he’d realized with delay. He’d been smiling the entire while, and the notion only served to widen that grin, to prolong it. That was, until surprise halted him, his elated expression instantly falling to one of bewilderment. 

He blinked.

Something had fallen—he saw—and had nearly missed him. When he lowered his blue eyes to seek the thing out, he found a large, orange fruit sitting at the tips of his shoes. 

“A mango?” he murmured curiously, wondering if an animal had knocked it off its stem. 

He expected to see that raccoon-monkey-thing hanging from a branch above him, but, what he saw when he looked up, knocked the wind out of him. He choked out a curt, surprised wail and his body teetered back until he was on the ground, dissolving into a slack jawed, gawking, puddle of a man in a matter of seconds.

He stared, paralyzed with shock, as two glowing, amber eyes stared back at him. And, no, they did not belong to a cute animal. They belonged to someone very, very human. 

They belonged to a boy.

A teenager.

“Wh-what the—“ Killua finally coughed, trying to force away the oncoming of fluster. How embarrassing to get so frightened by some guy! By some guy who looked to be his own age, even!

And, this person above him, was lying on his stomach, lounging upon a thick tree branch as if he’d been there for hours. His hair was dark and spiked up into thick tufts, complimenting his sun-tanned skin and bright eyes. 

He looked stunned, but not to such an extent that he didn’t also look nonchalant. 

“Did I scare you?” he asked.

Killua’s eyes, that were once wide, narrowed into a gaze of blue irritation. Picking himself up to pat the dirt off his slacks, he bit out; “Tch! Only ’cause I wasn’t expecting to see some guy lurking over my head.”

He hoped his frigid tone was enough to mask his embarrassment, just as much as he hoped his glare was enough to distract from the visible heat on his cheeks.

The man above him frowned in return, sharp brows furrowing with offense. “I wasn’t _lurking.”_

“Right,” Killua responded, folding his arms.

“I wasn’t.”

“Well—either way. Aren’t you a little too old to be climbing trees?”

Those bright eyes scanned up and down Killua’s person before a fine, black brow rose itself—mockingly mirroring Killua’s expression. “Aren’t you a little too young to tell me I’m too old to do something?”

Killua twitched, a flare of _something_ immediately climbing up from his stomach into his chest. It was hard to decipher whether it was pure annoyance or begrudging approval— _and annoyance_. But, he was still so peeved about being scared so easily, that he could hardly focus on the matter.

The sensation delayed his response, and if he whipped out a witty retort, it would seem as if he spent a few seconds thinking one up—which, in itself, would be a loss. So, instead, he frowned; “Why’re you up there, anyway?”

The other let out a breath of laughter, lips curling just a bit. “Why’re you running through a jungle in a tux?”

“Are you just gonna answer all my questions with more questions?” Killua practically snapped. “It’s not a _tux.”_

“ _Really?”_

“Yes, idiot. Really!”

“Okay—Well, I guess it doesn’t matter _what_ it is,” the other laughed, rearranging himself into a more comfortable position—which only pissed Killua off. He looked so at ease up there, smiling down while Killua was hot and irritated below him. “You still look funny running in it—“

“—Thanks,” Killua’s glare worsened, “I’m aware that—“

“—In ninety degree weather.”

“Yes. Thank y—“

“—In a _jungle.”_

That was it. Killua grit his teeth together, feeling a wave of aggravation wash over him that quelled all rational thought. He bent down to grab the befallen mango with a tense, pale hand before coiling it back and launching it at the guy. 

“I get it, jackass!” he cried out.

Unfortunately, there was no punctuating thud to follow, as he’d desired, for the guy ducked his head with perfect timing. That pissed him off. And, what was worse than not getting to hear the sound of fruit knocking into a teasing face, was having to hear playful laughter instead. Which pissed him off further.

He must’ve looked as irked as he felt, for when the laughter subsided, he heard: “You know… you’ll have wrinkles on your forehead if you keep pulling such angry faces.”

“Once again,” Killua nearly snarled, “ _Thank you_ for pointing out the obvious. _I know that._ Why do you think I have bangs?”

More laughter greeted him at that, and this time, for some reason beyond him, it calmed him down a bit. _A bit—_ meaning: not enough to remove the tension from his, apparently doomed, brow.

“Who are you, anyway? Why are you up there?” Killua finally asked, tone still bearing a bite. 

“Oh, me?” Amber eyes blinked. “I’m Gon. Gon Freecss—nice to meet you.”

Gon completed his introduction by smiling with both his mouth and his eyes, not a hint of stress or its effects evident on his clean, tan face. He appeared just as serene and transparent as his grin—which hit Killua like a beam of light. 

It was bizarre that this ‘Gon’ would trustingly state both his first and last name to a stranger, but Killua quickly remembered that the guy was currently speaking to him from the limb of a tree in the middle of a jungle.

That was one of two thoughts that graced his mind, then. 

The other being one that mostly concerned himself.

Gon’s capability to maintain this easygoing, welcoming persona after being threatened with a fruit and partaking in banter—that Killua handled incredibly sourly and took incredibly personal— had Killua realizing that, maybe, he was letting his frustrations get the best of him. Gon was treating all this as something entertaining, harmless. And, in retrospect, he hadn’t done or said anything actually offensive.

He was annoying Killua, yes, but, that was solely because Killua had already been on the verge of snapping before they’d even met. 

“…And, I know you’re not wearing a tux,” Gon spoke again, for Killua had forgotten to respond. “I was just joking.”

Killua perked up, glancing at him before letting his eyes close and a sigh filter out through his nose. He turned on his heel and took a seat on the ground. Resting his shoulders back against the tree’s trunk, he murmured, “Yeah… I know.”

“You’re wound pretty tight.”

An observation—a statement. Not a question.

“Pretty much.”

Gon hummed. “You didn’t look very tense when you were running, though.”

Killua’s eyes opened leisurely, stare immediately settling on the ground across the way. 

“But, when you saw me, you freaked out—like a switch went off,” Gon added, voice a little teasing, but in a way that was cautious, careful not to encourage a repeat performance. 

“Well, _yeah._ I’m not easy to scare but you managed to do that _and_ I fell over screaming.”

“To be fair, you didn’t expect me to be up here. I think. And, also—you didn’t scream. You kind of… yelled.”

“‘Doesn’t matter—it was bullshit.” Killua looked up to see Gon gazing at him with eyes of genuine intrigue. He offered a slanted smile, “I’m Killua—anyway.”

Gon smiled back, brows taking on a more jubilant arch. Such an expression would prove too exaggerated on Killua, but on Gon, it seemed natural.

“Uh…” Killua glanced to the right, then back up at the other man, “Sorry for throwing your mango. I take it that’s why you’re up there.”

“Ha, it’s okay—there’s more up here.” 

“Mm.” Killua nodded slowly. “S…so, like…” he shifted, pulling away from the tree’s bark to sit facing Gon, instead, elbows resting on his knees. “Do you just hang out here, climbing trees all the time?”

“Nah, I go down by the water, too.” Gon quirked a brow, “Do you go sprinting through jungles in suits all the time?”

Killua laughed, head ducking briefly. When he raised it again, he lolled it back, sighing as he recalled the reason he was out there to begin with. “No, this’s my first time being out here like this.”

“Really?”

“Mm. Yeah. I… don’t get out much.” _Not alone_ , _anyway…_

“Did you… _escape_ or something?” Gon said jokingly, but straightened up when Killua shrugged.

“Kinda.”

Gon didn’t say anything in return, and Killua figured he was expecting a story to follow. Musing on that, he was a bit wary to open up, as he’d never vented to an outsider before… then again, he’d never been presented the opportunity. And, if Gon was willing to listen, Killua might as well indulge a bit. It wasn’t as if they’d see each other again.

“Erm… My family’s being super overbearing. Well—mainly my parents. And, my brother. Well, they’re usually like this anyway, but today, they’re even worse.”

“Why’s that?” Gon asked with raised brows.

Killua lifted a hand and gestured as he spoke, “It’s my eighteenth birthday and whatever, which normally, one would understand a family freaking out and putting together this huge party to celebrate. But, me being eighteen doesn’t _just_ mean I’m a—yanno—an adult.” 

He paused. And, with the same open hand, he sifted it through his bangs, sweeping them to the side as he thought of how to properly phrase what he wanted to explain. He didn’t particularly like talking about his family’s status, or wealth. He felt that if he did so, he’d sound just like everyone he detested. That, and, he was still weighing the pros and cons of telling Gon anything personal—they may never speak again, but Killua was very much accustomed to keeping his thoughts and vulnerabilities private.

“…So, yanno… my family owns this huge business that makes a hell of a lot of money. My grandpa started it way back when. Then when he retired, my dad took it up. And, now, they want _me_ to take it on next—“

“—Oh, I get it. So, to them, you being a legal adult is like a step in that direction. Right?”

Killua nodded appreciatively. “Right. Exactly.”

“Hm,” Gon nodded thoughtfully, though his guise contrasted; appearing more curious than ruminating. “And, you don’t wanna follow in their footsteps?”

Killua hesitated for a moment, but briskly worked to cover it up. He shrugged to feign indifference, “It’s complicated, I guess.” A wave of his hand to dismiss the subject, “Really, the problem is that they’re breathing down my neck and I have to be at this dumb party and shake hands with old businessmen and act proper.

“I’m a good actor when it benefits me—or when I _wanna_ be. But I don’t want to deal with any of this today.” _Or any day._

“Yeah, ‘cause it’s your birthday,” Gon frowned, pushing off the limb to sit upright. He swung his legs over the curve of the wood to fully face Killua who nodded his head in response. “I wouldn’t want to handle business on my birthday, either.”

“Yeah, it _blows,”_ Killua groaned. 

“Mm,” the other chuckled under his breath. “So, you ditched—that’s why you were smiling so much, right?”

A distracted smile graced Killua’s lips as he thought back to the exhilaration he’d felt, booking it into the jungle on a mere whim. “Mm. Yeah.”

“Well, good. Problem solved.”

“Not exactly,” Killua’s mouth fell into a soft line, eyes meeting Gon’s. “I gotta go back before it ends. ‘Pretty sure that if I don’t, my parent’s will just throw another party and be even more annoying about it. They’d watch me like a hawk—probably.”

He’d never purposely been absent to an event he was expected to attend, but he knew his parents well enough that the outcome was laughably easy to surmise. 

“They really piss me off, yanno…” Killua found himself murmuring, gaze returning to the ground. “I just wanna freak ‘em out a little—get a jab in before going through with their shitty party.”

“Well, I think you not being there on time will do the trick. My aunt would be furious if I did that, even if I showed up before it ended.”

“Yeah,” Killua snorted, “They’ll be pissed, but I can lie well enough so they won’t hold it against me. Which’ll feel good for a little while. But, that’ll wear off once I have to pull my act together. And, who knows, they’re probably stalling right now, waiting for me to get there—so, I’m probably not even missing out on anything.”

Gon remained quiet—most likely because he didn’t know how to respond. If Killua were him, he wouldn’t either.

“I just wanna… piss them off without there being any serious consequences.”

“Hmm, well you can always go to your party and act like a jerk,” Gon suggested with a small chuckle. “You did say you’re a good actor. Then, again… Considering how you threw a mango at a complete stranger, you might not need to rely on that skill at all.”

“Shut up,” Killua snickered. “You deserved it. And, b’sides, acting like an ass would end badly for me. Yanno, I thought about sneaking laxatives into all the food and locking the bathrooms from the inside—but, that’d just make my family look bad.”

Gon howled with laughter—which was a flitting, youthful thing, despite his appearance. It possessed such an inviting air about it that Killua couldn’t help but join in. 

Wiping his eyes, when he’d calmed, Gon sighed. “Yeah, maybe you shouldn’t do that.”

Killua snorted, shaking his head. “Yeah, prob’ly shouldn’t.” 

There was a finality in his tone that he hadn’t meant to voice, but nevertheless, it didn’t escape Gon’s notice, and he was met with an apologetic frown thereafter. 

Killua didn’t want anyone to pity him, neither did he want to deflate anyone with his bleak little problems, so he heaved a sigh and picked himself back up. Maybe it was good timing—he’d already said more than needed.

Speaking with a more lively tone, he lazily waved a hand. “Anyway, I should head back,” both hands slid into the warm pockets of his slacks, “It was cool meeting you. Have, uh, fun… mango-picking.”

Gon nodded, “Yeah—you have fun, too, Killua—err _try to_.”

“Mm,” Killua lifted his chin once before whisking on his heel to head back down the path he’d come. 

And from behind, he heard Gon call out: “If I could help, I would!”

 _Yeah, as if he could really help._ Killua inwardly scoffed, immediately dismissing those words as something generic and comforting people said to make _themselves_ feel better. Killua and Gon, both, knew that there wasn’t even the slightest sense of reality in that statement. 

There was no possible way Gon could help him out of, or through, his situation, whatsoever. He could laugh, the idea was utterly asinine—a joke.

He _knew_ that…

And yet, he couldn’t let go of it.

Killua managed to take five more paces forward before his legs finally stopped on their own, those words echoing in his head like the tolling of a church bell. He was confused as to why, and even more baffled by the faint excitation suddenly running through him. As if an epiphany was carefully creeping up on him—something relieving and bright—near in sensation, yet vastly far away in actuality.

On a whim, Killua turned back around, eyeing Gon who had rearranged himself on his branch. Gon caught the movement in his peripheral and turned his head to stare back, but said nothing. He looked as if he’d been caught stealing.

“If you could help, you would?” 

Amber eyes blinked twice. “Hm?”

Killua began sauntering towards him, “If you could help—somehow—you’re saying you would?”

Gon looked a bit cautious, but, smiled, nonetheless. “Yeah! I would.”

“You wanna try and help me?”

Gon nodded.

“How?”

“Oh… uhm. I… don’t know.”

Killua didn’t know what he was expecting with that one—even he hadn’t an idea. An exhale left him as he trudged back to the tree, facing Gon with a rather scrutinizing gaze.

“Do… do _you_ have an idea?” Gon asked carefully before clearing his throat, “I mean, do you _want_ me to help you?”

“I don’t really like to involve people in my personal business.”

“Right…”

A pause.

“But, if you’re offering… I can’t help but feel _obligated_ to accept…”

Gon chuckled at that while Killua continued to stare at him—though, he was hardly acknowledging the man at all. He was so deep in thought, trying to conjure up any slight semblance to a plan he could, that Gon had become a blur of colors against a green background. 

He knew Gon couldn’t help ease him out of his being an heir. And, neither could Gon help him wean himself from his family’s clutches. No, Gon could not relieve him of the onerous issues in his life. If any of the such were even possible, that role would be rightfully reserved for Killua, himself. 

So, he had to think smaller. 

Maybe, he should focus on the present matter troubling him. Today.

How could he utilize this new acquaintance— _today?_

He had his party. His party full of snobs celebrating the fact that he could now take over the family business at any moment, if fate just so happened to want him to. 

He could ask Gon to burn the house down… or vandalize some things… That is, if he wanted to thank him by sending a cute card to his jail cell.

“Hey, Killua?”

Killua’s brows furrowed as Gon’s voice carelessly derailed his train of thought. 

“Mrrnnh?” he grumbled, both, irritably and distractedly.

“You look deep in thought.”

“I _am.” Thanks for another quality observation, Gon…_

“Would it really be that impossible to piss your parents off without getting in trouble?”

And just like that, as if struck by lightning, Killua froze up, eyes widening, epiphany grabbing hold of him and blinding him to all else. 

“Gon! You sh—“ Killua hesitated, trying to understand this whirring mess of words swarming through his head. It was on the tip of his tongue—right there, he nearly had it! And, when it finally hit him, he yanked his hands from his pockets and motioned them excitedly. 

“You should come to the party! As my business partner!”

Killua’s eager tone wasn’t greeted with one of the same quality—what he got in return was a confused gurgle. 

“Mmmwhat?”

“My business partner—the party—you!“

“Killua, what?” Gon gave a perplexed stare and leaned forward, hands gripping the bark on either side of his thighs. “I don’t know anything about businesses.”

“You got a suit or something, don’t you?”

“Sure, but—“

The clap of Killua’s hands cut the other off. “See? You’re already half-qualified.”

“You’re insane,” Gon deadpanned. He was lost—absolutely, completely, wholeheartedly lost.

“I’m a genius.”

Gon merely sighed, “I think that’s debatable.”

“No. It isn’t. Listen.” Killua walked over and pressed the side of his right arm against the tree, so close to Gon that he could snag the boots off his feet without moving. 

“The only thing either of us are capable of is pissing my parents off. And, bringing an unexpected guest to the party and introducing him as my partner—someone I want to assist me in taking over the family’s oh-so majestic and omnipotent business—who’s as unqualified as an infant—will do just that.”

Gon was listening intently, intrigue as apparent on his face as the hue of his skin was. That and irritation—maybe he should have chose a different comparison.

“We can stir shit up,” Killua smirked, eyes twinkling with absolute, unadulterated mischief. 

“‘Stir shit up’,” Gon parroted.

“Mhm.”

“Like… say weird things and be loud and all that?”

Killua nodded slowly, smirk lengthening. 

“What’re you gonna tell them when they point out the fact that you and I don’t know each other? If they’re this overbearing, I’m guessing they know everything about you and your social life.”

_How perceptive._

Killua laughed, “That’s when it gets even better. I’ll be honest, of course. Imagine how ticked they’ll be, hearing something like that—and not being able to do anything about it because I’m eighteen!”

Finally, Gon eased up and joined in on the laughter—he may be a bit confused, but at least he wasn’t showing discomfort. However, that just made Gon all the more strange to Killua, as one might show a bit of resistance to ruining an elegant get together. But, maybe Gon was simply just a cool, laid-back type that went with the flow and didn’t mind partaking in spur of the moment shenanigans. Or maybe he was just extremely bored.

Killua couldn’t think of any reason for Gon to be against the idea in the first place.

He hadn’t anything to lose—no one would know a thing about him and he’d promptly disappear from the Zoldycks’ lives without a trace, like a thief in the night. 

Meanwhile, Killua could acquire the justice he justly deserved without weathering any consequences. 

It was too perfect.

“So, you wanna do it?” Killua asked, lips softly curved.

Without a beat of silence, Gon chirped; “Yeah, let’s do it.”

As if to make a point and showcase his willingness, Gon followed his words by gracefully dropping from his branch and planting the soles of his boots onto the dirt with a hollow thud. Killua whistled, brows raised, considering that was about a seven-foot drop. 

He looked Gon up and down. “Well. Looks like I can’t lend you any of my clothes…”

Finally being face to face, Killua noted that Gon’s build was much broader than his, chest defined beneath his loose tank, arms cut and strong. He couldn’t see these details from the ground, and he most certainly couldn’t tell that Gon was taller than him. 

Killua was already very tall—as both of his parents were—but Gon still trumped him by a couple of inches.

Hands on his hips, he muttered, “You have dress clothes right? Fancy stuff?”

“I don’t think I have a suit like yours, but I have professional clothes, yeah.”

“Alright. Go change and meet me back here,” Killua paused before fishing his cellphone out of his pocket. “Let’s trade numbers, just in case something comes up while you’re gone.”

After that task was completed, Gon was sprinting into the green of the jungle, disappearing from sight within seconds. 

And, for the second time that afternoon, Killua was whistling. But, his impressed guise quickly diluted into something miffed. Not only was Gon taller than Killua but also, quite possibly, just as fast of a runner as he was.

_How annoying._

 

\- - -

 

Either Gon lived nearby or he had an impressive stamina for running, for his absence didn’t last nearly as long as Killua had anticipated. Having become consumed in text messages with his sister, Killua didn’t realize the man had returned until two well-kept, black shoes were placed in his peripheral. 

From the ground, Killua glanced up and over, jaw immediately falling. “Whoa…”

He didn’t know what was stranger; meeting Gon in a tree or seeing Gon switch from hiking shorts, boots and a tank to such exquisite attire. 

In all humble honesty, Gon cleaned up well—he was handsome in his fitted, black slacks and matching shoes. Slate gray button-up and silken, black tie. But, what added _charm_ to this outfit was the stylish, black blazer he’d thrown on, that fit his shape as perfectly as anything could or _should._

“Is this alright? I told you, I didn’t have a suit or anything,” Gon said a bit sheepishly, pulling down on his blazer as if self-conscious under Killua’s bemused staring.

Killua scrambled to his feet and shook his head. “No—No, you look good. That’s fine. T’s better than a suit, in my opinion.” He shoved his phone into his pocket and sighed. 

“My sister’s been covering for me, apparently. Saying I wasn’t feeling well, so I went on a walk. They’re waiting for me to get there.”

“Oh,” Gon’s brows lifted, “You were right, then.”

“Yeah, so. Get ready for a full night of _partying.”_ His tone was absolutely dry—they both knew what kind of event this was going to be. He couldn’t have fun at one of these gatherings even if he was paid to. 

 

\---

 

Killua didn’t realize how far from the mansion he’d ventured until they were ten minutes well into their trek over and hardly halfway there. He was fairly against small talk—it was a pet peeve he’d attained over the years of having to make it with boring, rich folk. So, his walk with Gon was relatively quiet.

Save for the few helpful comments on what to expect when they arrived at the party; who would be waiting at the doors, who would come running up to them, the decorations, the stagnant crowd of people.

However, even after absorbing his warnings, Killua saw Gon’s jaw drop the moment the pearly white double doors to his home were opened by the hands of two black-clad butlers. Those glowing eyes sparkled with disbelief and wonder, that free spring in his step stuttered and halted.

Killua frowned before turning his head to the enormous hall to see what Gon was—to see what he had flawlessly described. 

The entire front half of the mansion was constructed for the sole purpose of entertaining. It was spacious and extravagant, bearing the gaudiest decorations compared to the rest of the home. The color scheme was picked to match the sunshine and liveliness of Whale Island—shades of yellow, of gold, with accents of white marble. All of the nicer furniture clear and built of crystal to prevent distraction. It was awful.

He looked around, ignoring the small sea of men and women conversing throughout the space and found, before a far wall opposite the double doors, a small platform with musicians in their seats and a piano off to the side. 

“They’re really going all out for this,” Killua grumbled—he hadn’t expected _that_. 

“Killua—you live here? Seriously?” Gon let out, finally.

“Only during the summer,” Killua replied, “Or when my parents wanna host a big event. We keep our other house private, and believe me—it’s _a lot_ darker than this. Depressingly dark. This is all for show.”

“Really?”

“Yeah—hey, let’s move so they can close the doors,” Killua tugged on Gon’s sleeve and pulled him out of the doorway. It was upon contact, that he had an idea and began rolling the raven’s sleeves up.

“What’re you doing?” Gon let out a chuckle, watching Killua roll them up to his elbows. “Isn’t that a bit… casual?”

“Yeah, t’s the point,” the other returned, ironing out the new creases with the palm of his hand when finished. “It looks nice, anyway. Here, I’ll do it too.”

And, from there, he proceeded to roll his own sleeves up. “We can match.”

“Whatever works for you,” Gon smiled with his teeth instead of laughing. “So, what do we do first?”

“Deal with my brother,” Killua turned back to face the crowd. The guests nearest them began to notice their presence and either lifted their hands in greeting, or smiled the typical fake-happy smiles he’d seen a million times. 

The only one out of the two of them that returned any of these greetings was Gon, who did so politely, nodding his head as they walked past. 

“You don’t have to do that,” Killua murmured, instead of scanning the place for his brother, he turned to eye Gon instead. It was strangely endearing—how new this was to Gon, or rather, how well-mannered he was.  

“It’s polite.”

“We’re not here to be polite.”

Gon laughed, “So, what do you want me to do? Flip off anyone who smiles at me?”

“Now, there’s an idea,” Killua flashed a droll smirk. 

“Kil, mother wants to speak to you.”

The curve of Killua’s lips evened out immediately at the smooth, impassive voice beside him. They both glanced over to see Killua’s oldest brother, tall and clad in a suit much like Killua’s, though a hint of a shade lighter. Long, brunette tresses loosely drawn to pour over his shoulder.

When azure eyes met brown, Killua grumbled out a, “Illumi.”

“Hello, Kil. Glad to see you’ve finally returned. Mother was worried.”

“I bet she was.”

“Ah~” Illumi extended a hand, “What have you done to your jacket—“

When Killua realized Illumi was reaching out to right his bunched up sleeves, he took a step back. “I rolled ‘em up.”

The man let out a wearisome sigh, “The materials were not made for that.”

“They’re doing just fine, to me,” Killua replied. “Where’s Mom?”

“She’s arranging for the refreshments to be brought out. Who’s your guest?”

“Oh, him?” Killua could feel the excitement beginning to brim within, a smile stretching his lips, “This is Gon. Gon, this is my brother—Illumi.”

Gon gave a gentle wave while Illumi’s eyes passed over him with as much interest as one would regard a blank wall. If not for the obvious sweep of his eyes, it wouldn’t appear as if he’d acknowledged Gon at all.

He turned back to Killua, saying sternly, “This party is RSVP only, Kil.”

“Then, we’ll just have to make some adjustments, now won’t we?” Killua could barely control his smile. “Besides, it’s my birthday right? It’s my day—so I brought my own guest.”

Illumi’s expression continued on emotionless, however, there was a hint of frustration in it that only Killua could pick out over the years. “You brought a stranger over your assigned date.”

Killua tensed at that, having momentarily forgotten all about that specific burden in his life. “Hey, you’re right. So, RSVP problem solved… Erm, I’m gonna find Mom.”

And, with that, Killua was brushing past Illumi’s side, an awkwardly postured Gon following suit. When they were far enough away from the brunette, Gon sped up to Killua’s side and murmured.

“He looks mad.”

“That’s just his face.”

“Right.” Gon tilted his head questioningly, “Why didn’t you tell him I was your business partner?”

“‘Cause he’s not our focus right now—plus, he’d just run off and tell my parents before I could—“ Killua halted, gesturing to the doors at the right of the room where white carts of champagne and bowls of colorful treats were being wheeled through them. The hands behind the carts belonged to an array of butlers, and the one leading them with nothing but a fan in her delicate, pale hand was his mother, Kikyo.

She strayed away from the butlers in tow, and while they set the refreshments off to the side as planned, she came to the center of the room and announced that everyone could now help themselves to whatever they desired. The crowd burst out in hushed approval.

It only took a few lingering moments of fake smiling before Kikyo was storming to Killua’s side, compelling his heart to flutter with adrenaline. Now, the party was really starting. 

“Killua—“ she started, but Killua cut her off by stepping back to stand right beside his raven-haired guest. 

“Mom.”

“Who is this—where have you been? He cannot be here, why weren’t you here—you could’ve taken a walk in the yard, you were nowhere to be found! —Where is Amelie?”

Not that Gon never believed Killua about his family being overbearing, but if he hadn’t—he did now. The proof was evident on his face in the combination of a mouth, slightly ajar, and wide eyes.

Killua ignored the majority of her spewing and smirked, lifting a hand and referring to Gon at his side. “This is Gon Freecss.”

“Yes. And why is he here!?”  Her voice had risen a few notches until a guest strode past them, unintentionally reminding her to remain civil. Clasping her hands in front of the lap of her gown, she continued, though, this time, her voice was worse than shrill. It was quiet and deceptively saccharine. “Kil, you know this party is RSVP only. We simply cannot accommodate—“

“—Yeah, but, we can—and we should. Gon is a very important guest, Mom.” Killua cut in swiftly with a tone so serene he may have been lounging in a hammock in their backyard. “It would be embarrassing if we couldn’t provide for him, yanno?”

While Killua kept his eyes set on his mother’s, Gon noticed the way her refined hands began to shake and tighten around one another—the fan between them, trembling. 

“All the ‘very important guests’ were sent invitations, Kil,” Kikyo responded, keeping up her sugary act. “And he—“

“—Was sent one. Verbally. I invited him.”

Kikyo froze up, hands so tightly wound around her fan Gon feared it would snap. Meanwhile, Killua was maintaining this absolutely placid composure—though, Gon knew he wanted to double over laughing.  

“Killua. Darling. You know you should run things by your father and myself before bringing _friends_ to these events.”

“Yeah but, it was a last minute decision and I felt that today, it was fine, considering the circumstances. I couldn’t just let my _business partner_ miss out on all this.”

There it was. 

 _Here_ it was.

The crack in impeccable, yet false, fortitude and the beautiful, yet hastily cultivated, self-justice Killua so dearly desired. All present in the way the folded fan hit the ground, its glossy, black material clattering against marble. The way bright, brown eyes widened and dilated and the brows sitting above them began to tremble. 

What Killua loved most was the way her throat shifted, as if swallowing down all the curses she desperately wished to bellow. When he devised this plan, he hadn’t realized what a spectacle it would become. _How satisfactory it would be_. He never considered the reality that his mother would have to remain proper while nearly busting at the seams of her fictitious self-possession.

This was for all the years of frustrating him and forcing him into a lifestyle he never felt rightful to claim. And, Killua hadn’t an ounce of regret in him. 

“Killua—“ Kikyo stopped short of a potential outburst when Gon bowed, retrieved her fan and held it out to her. 

“You dropped this,” Gon smiled, smile just as sweet as Killua’s mother’s tone had been. Killua wanted to pat him on the back.

Kikyo’s lips twitched, as if she knew to thank him but couldn’t bring herself to pull it off. Briskly, she took the fan and returned her gaze to her son. Her once-shocked stare was now utterly scathing, and of course, her voice was perfectly opposite of what she wanted it to be. 

“Killua, you—this is—“

“—My business partner,” Killua finished generously, stifling his laughter. 

“No. You’re joking, aren’t you?” Kikyo cleared her throat, “Kil, today is not the day to pull pranks!”

“But, I’m not,” Killua replied more maturely—or rather, lied more convincingly. “Gon is my business partner. I’m eighteen and I’m old enough and _legal_ enough to make this kind of decision.”

“But, I’ve never met him before! I have never seen this man in my life!”

“That’s why I’m introducing you now—“ Killua paused before the laughter thick in his throat slipped out. “Mom, I’m not pulling your leg. This is Gon Freecss—my business partner. I want him to take on the entire business with me when Dad retires.”

Gon glanced at him, eyes reprimanding—he didn’t have to add on that last part. 

Instead of righting her rudeness towards Gon and introducing herself, Kikyo bit her bottom lip and turned on her heel before disappearing into the crowd.

The second she was out of sight, Killua bent over, hands coming to clasp around his knees as everything he’d kept suppressed came barreling out of his mouth. And, though he didn’t hold back in his laughter, all the chatter surrounding them drowned it out, leaving Gon the single person who could hear it. 

“How’d that feel?” Gon chuckled, watching the man get it out.

“God, that felt—fucking—amazing—” Killua panted in between laughs. He returned upright and sighed, wiping at his eyes. “And—and you handing her—the fan. I almost lost it!”

Now, Gon was laughing too. “I thought it would help if I just acted nice—she’d have no reason to yell at me. Even if she wanted to.”

“Oh, she wanted to.”

“I think she wanted to yell—in general.”

“Yeah,” Killua snickered, “Definitely.”

“So, what’s next—or, I guess— _who’s_ next?”

“Probably my dad,” Killua’s arms folded themselves, head turning to peer out amongst the guests. “He’s not around, though—‘least not over here. I’d be able to spot his hair. He’s tall as hell.”

“I take it, we just do a repeat performance?”

“Nah,” Killua shook his head, eyes landing back on Gon’s. “My dad’s tougher. We’re gonna have to act respectful. It’ll be better that way—if we’re stern and mature. He’ll know he doesn’t have a say.”

“Right.” A tan hand came up and Gon rubbed the nape of his neck. “It’s kinda dumb, but I wanna say you know your family _extremely well._ Like they’re not real, or something. Kinda like you study them.” 

Killua considered that, expression pensive. “They’re just really predictable—“

A butler interrupted their chat then, wishing Killua a ‘happy birthday’ and asking him if he’d like a drink. Though he could probably get away with drinking alcohol, Killua requested two glasses of sparkling cider, as they had to be on their best game. That, and he hated the empty flavor of champagne.  

“Okay, I have a question,” Gon spoke up later, crystal glass of fizzling cider in his hand. He walked at Killua’s side, leisurely making rounds about the room together. “I was gonna ask earlier, but felt like it was irrelevant. Plus, it’s not really any of my business.”

Killua snorted, lips around the rim of his glass. 

Gon accepted that as permission to continue. “Your brother brought up an ‘assigned date’ and your mom asked where some ‘Amelie’ was…”

Killua knew where this was going. After swallowing down the cider, he grumbled, “My parents are trying to set me up with this girl. Amelie’s her name. She’s supposed to be here, but, I spaced on inviting her.”

“Whoops.”

“Yeah. Whoops,” Killua took another swig. Thinking about Amelie and the other women who came before her, he almost wished he had taken the champagne.

“Do you not like her?”

“I don’t really know her,” Killua admitted, beginning to feel uncomfortable. He was willing to answer Gon’s questions, but if it delved even the slightest into something more intricate and personal in his life, he’d rather avoid it. 

It seemed as if there’d be no need to elaborate as Gon’s expression seemed understanding. He didn’t press the issue and Killua couldn’t blame him. Even if he _was_ eager to share, talking about how your parents wanted you to find a suitable fiancé ‘before it was too late’ so you could have children and pass the future of the business down to one of them, and took it upon themselves to supply respectable candidates, would dampen the mood.

For closure, he sighed, “It’s stupid and complicated. Like all this,” with the glass, he gestured to the room.

“Yeah—this is a bit much… For my eighteenth, we just had a bunch of people from the island come over and had a big fire and lit fireworks.”

Killua looked at him, silently. There was a hint of jealousy in his chest, a pang of longing he couldn’t ignore. But, he tried to keep it from showing on his face. “That sounds fun—sounds laid-back…”

“It was,” Gon smiled warmly, as if he were back in that moment, “It was really nice.”

“I’ve never done anything like that… Oh, hey. Old guys approaching—six o’clock.”

Gon glanced behind him out of reflex before stepping to face the oncoming guests. Killua assumed his natural, careless stance. One that was confident and suave, yet disinterested all the same while Gon stood a bit stiffer, shoulders straight. 

“Hello, Mr. Battera,” Killua greeted coolly.

Battera was indeed an ‘old guy’, possibly in his sixties. His silver hair was slicked to one side and his face was pale, bearing tales of all the laughter and stress he’d endured in his life in a display of wrinkles. 

At his side was someone younger, yet taller and buffer. Black-haired and tan with the face of one hardened by the military, though, he’d never joined. 

“Tsezguerra,” Killua added. 

Both men came to stand before the younger pair, carrying their own glasses and clad in suits just as pristine as Killua’s. 

“Good evening to you, Killua,” Battera smiled, the crow’s feet adorning his eyes deepening. “And, a happy birthday.”

“Yeah, happy,” Killua muttered dryly. “Thank you.”

Battera’s expression shifted in surprise. “Is it not? You’re not enjoying yourself?”

“Me?” Killua smirked, “I’m wearing a fitted suit in ninety degree weather in a room sweltering with body heat and drinking lukewarm cider. Of course, I am.”

“Oh, don’t be so critical,” the man laughed, “Your parents really outdid themselves.”

“I’ll pass that along to them.”

“Who’s your friend?” Tsezguerra asked, eyes dragging up and down Gon’s person. Killua simply nudged him with his elbow.

“I’m Gon. Gon Freecss!” Gon extended a hand and shook two, as if on cue. “I’m Killua’s new business partner.”

As he confessed this tidbit, the hand within Gon’s—Battera’s— loosened its grip. 

“Business partner?” he blinked. “You’re his business partner?”

“Yup, we’re going to lead the business together. It’s nice to meet you,” Gon spoke with charming politeness and enthusiasm. Though, not so much that he seemed naive. However, Killua knew it was startling to see such ‘spunk’ in someone anywhere near the industry of business. 

“You’re a bit young, aren’t you?” Tsezguerra asked, a faint smirk on his lips and all the skepticism in the world on his face.

“Well, I’m the same age as Killua.”

“Yes, and Killua is also, very young. But, what he lacks in age and experience, he makes up for in knowledge.” A black brow lifted, “Do you know anything about leading a multi-trillion business?”

“M-multi… trillion?” Gon’s confidence faltered, jaw dropping. He turned to Killua who sighed, leaning in to murmur in his ear.

“The company makes that much— _we_ don’t get nearly half that. He’s just trying to intimidate you.”

Gon gave a sheepish nod before turning back to the man barely stifling his laughter. Facade full of unrelenting determination; “I don’t. But, I’m willing to learn—at Killua’s side.”

“There’s a lot to learn.”

“I’m young. I have time.”

Killua turned his head and sipped at his cider, the corner of his lips curled like he wanted to laugh. And, he almost did.

Sensing Tsezguerra’s growing irritation, Battera waved his glass and smiled courteously. “Yes, and with that tenacity of yours, I’m sure you’ll do fine. Silva and Kikyo wouldn’t approve of this partnership if they couldn’t see success in your futures.”

“Oh, they didn’t approve of this—“ Killua cut in easily, “I made this decision myself. I’m of legal age, so.”

“And, your parents are okay with this?” Tsezguerra practically sputtered. Killua wasn’t disturbed by how personal the men were taking this—seeing as it would affect their lives as well. They had a partnership.

“It doesn’t matter if they’re okay with it—I’m old enough to make this choice on my own. And, with my _knowledge_ , I’m wise enough, as well.” Killua lifted his glass, “We’re going now. Enjoy yourselves. Spread the word if you want.” A side glance, “C’mon, Gon.”

Gon nodded a goodbye and followed Killua away.

Together, they’d only stolen a few meters of distance from the pair before Gon was tugging on Killua’s rolled sleeve. Killua didn’t turn around until they’d ventured a bit further.

“Okay, so,” Gon started the moment that blue gaze was on him. “Multi-trillion?”

Killua grimaced, handing his now empty glass to a passing butler, “Oh—don’t get hung up on that.”

Gon mimicked the action thoughtlessly, amber stare riddled with both confusion and assumption—intently set on his partner. Within those eyes, two possibilities were clear to Killua: Gon was either floored by his indifference to large sums of money or—even worse—noted that indifference and consequently suspected graft.

“Yeah—it’s a lot of money,” Killua said on a sigh, “But, seriously. Don’t. That’s like… all our assets—“

“What do you guys _do?”_

“Nothing cool. Really, it’s just worldwide banking, or whatever. You’ve probably heard of it. Z.Z. Banking?”

Gon blinked. Then, nodded. Then, chuckled.

“…What?”

Sheepishly; “That’s the one I use.”

“God…” Killua muttered wearily. 

Several guests greeted Killua and inquired about how his birthday was going before Gon continued with the conversation.

“So, you said your grandpa created it?”

“Yeah,” Killua reached out and grabbed another glass of cider from a passing tray, the butler carrying it providing a warm smile and a glass for Gon as well. “Zeno Zoldyck—that’s his name. Created it on his own, and after hard work and smart moves, turned it into what it is today.”

“Why’s the logo a pair of dragons?”

“Hell if I know, that’s just his thing,” Killua snorted, recalling the design. The bank’s emblem was a golden coin with two mirroring dragons, their tails reaching the bottom arc and wrapping around on either side until they met at the top arc’s center. “Most kids grew up liking army figurines—superheroes. My grandpa liked dragons.”

Gon laughed quietly before sipping. “Kinda reminds me of my dad.”

With intrigue, Killua’s brows lifted into his bangs, “Yeah? How’s that—“

However, the sudden shift in expression on Gon’s face had his question trailing off. As was usual whenever Killua was interested in something, his family ended up deterring any of his investments in it.

When he turned around to see what had piqued Gon’s alarm, he was met with a pair of eyes, nearly steel-like in color. Aged, thriving with both wisdom and dry amusement, they belonged to none other than his grandfather. Zeno Zoldyck, donning his usual preference of clothing—cultural robes of a deep violet accentuated with golden jewelry—walked to him, rim of a crystal glass between his lips.

“Grandpa,” Killua regarded him, tone softer than what he had greeted anyone else with that evening. 

Zeno’s stare was more quaint than it should’ve been, given Killua’s clear objective. And, rather than stop for a chat, he leisurely strode past and spoke from behind his glass.

“What’re you doing, Kil…?”

Killua felt his lips tilt into the faintest of smirks. “Nothing.”

“Nothing, hm?”

Zeno’s voice was neither reprimanding nor judgmental, but entertained with a hint of _‘whatever it is, don’t screw yourself over~’._

In the brief moment of passing, Killua noticed how the man’s thick, white brows rose and lowered swiftly. As a result of their relationship—or of how well Killua had come to know Zeno’s mannerisms, Killua saw the gesture as a tip. The man might as well have been pointing behind him.

Following this instinct, he transferred his attention and found his parents making their way over. He turned back to Gon with a smile.

“Here they come.”

“You look excited,” Gon chuckled.

“‘Cause I am,” Killua snorted, tipping his glass against his lips. 

“Your dad looks intimidating. Like he shouldn’t be in banking—but in a wrestling ring.”

Killua sputtered out laughter, cider spilling out the corner of his mouth. Promptly after wiping it along the length of his forearm, his mother’s sickly sweet voice was once again flitting into his ears.

“Kil? Your father is here to speak to you.”

Killua sent Gon a stern glance before pivoting to face his parents. And, together they stood, postures tight and very clearly accustomed to propriety. Their gazes differed slightly, Killua’s father, Silva, peered at him sternly, as if making clear he knew what was going on and Killua better choose his words carefully. Meanwhile, Kikyo still possessed eyes of distress but ones that were stronger now that Silva was here to put an end to whatever was going on.

It took a moment for Killua to place his poker face—Gon’s wrestling comment creating visuals in his mind that were entirely distracting.

“Dad.”

“Kil,” Silva greeted in return, curtly. “Happy birthday, son.”

“Thanks.”

There was a pause during which Silva silently stared down at him. At his side, Kikyo’s hands were wringing about her fan, her eyes impatiently darting back and forth between the two men. There were no doubts in Killua’s mind that if neither he or his father initiated the conversation soon, she would. 

And clear as day, Killua could see that his father wanted to cut to the chase just as much as he, himself, wanted to. However, the fact that it was his birthday kept Silva from doing so. And the fact that Silva was Silva had Killua refraining, as well. Killua couldn’t rush into the conversation like he had with his mother or Battera. If anything, he had to _lure_ it out.

Killua rose a brow innocently.

“I don’t want you to think I only sought you out to scold you,” Silva said, finally. 

Killua gave a lopsided smile. He could come up with several variations of the same cheeky response he would give Illumi or Kikyo after hearing such a statement, but kept it all to himself. 

“However, there are things we need to talk about—such as Amelie, your late arrival, and—“ Silva’s eyes glanced Gon’s way, but hardly lingered, “—Your ‘business partner’.”

“Okay,” Killua nodded. “In private?”

“Yes, in private.” A beat. “And, I’d rather speak to you after your party. But, your mother is adamant we discuss your hasty business decisions right now.”

Killua let the end of his lips curl just a bit. “My decision _was_ hasty, I’ll admit that one. But, I’m confident in my choices.”

Gon looked from Killua to Silva with composed, and utterly silent, intrigue. There was a vast difference in the air around Silva that was nearly palpable—especially in comparison to when they had confronted Kikyo or Illumi. The atmosphere quickly turned to one of _‘don’t speak unless spoken to’._

“You’re confident in your choice to share the business’s future with a stranger you met an hour ago?”

“Weren’t you the one that told me ‘first impressions are just as important as the last’?” Killua countered, tone light yet unyielding.

“Killua.”

“Gon made an impression on me that will probably last a lifetime, Dad. I could tell from the very moment he started talking, that he’d be great to work with.”

“Being ‘great to work with’ isn’t of the same calibre as being great _for the company._ I taught you that.”

“Yeah, but,” Killua put a hand on Gon’s shoulder, “Gon, here, is so malleable that I can work him into being both. Great to work with _and_ great for the company. He has a really enthusiastic and dedicated personality.”

Kikyo stepped forward, as if unable to take any more, “—What about expertise! Does he know anything about leading such a wealthy business?”

The outburst shocked Gon but only had Killua redirecting his stare. Silva stepped forward in a way of letting his wife know she needn’t stress while he handled the conversation.

“Your mother’s right. Endearing traits aside, what skills does he offer us? What experience does he have? Did you even look over his resume?”

Killua shook his head, “No, I didn’t.”

“And, why not?” 

Silva’s tone hadn’t changed once during the back-and-forth and Killua knew it wasn’t about to. His father had a way of speaking where he could maintain a seemingly neutral tone while also being severely strict. It’s what made him a great leader and relentless negotiator. 

All it meant to Killua, in this moment, was that he had to be just as confident as his father, if he wanted his plan to have a lasting effect.

“His determination won me over. I didn’t feel like I needed to.”

“You didn’t feel as if it was necessary at all? Killua, you’re dealing with a company that handles and brings in great amounts of money.”

“I know—but even so, I think that counts for something, Dad. Knowing from a just _a few_ words out of someone’s mouth that they’re the key. That they’re capable and promising.” Killua nodded, “That’s more telling than a perfectly written resume, in my opinion.”

“—Killua, enough!” Kikyo cut in again—shrilly, throwing her hands down at her sides. “You always let your emotions influence your actions, but never your head!”

“Yeah, but I’ve always been that way—you tell me that all the time!” Killua’s brows furrowed irritably, those words triggering his pulse to race beneath his skin.

“She says it because it’s a hindrance, Killua,” his father explained and it felt utterly suffocating—as if he was back at the table having this conversation with them for the hundredth time. 

“That’s what you say. But, I’ve always been like this and it’s not as if that was gonna change just because I’m taking over the business.”

“But over time and after seeing what it truly takes to lead a successful company—“

“—I’ll still be the same! I told you—if this job is going to change who I am, then I don’t want it—“ Killua paused, having grown a bit too loud. Inwardly, he anxiously worked to will away his emotions—as contradictory as that was. He had to think clearly, here. And, most importantly, prevent Gon from learning more about him than he needed to. 

But due to his emotional outburst, the plan was quickly on its way to failure. Killua knew that for the sake of pulling all this off, it was _dire_ for him to revert back to a calmer state, to handle himself and his words with cool confidence and composure.

It was difficult—as all he wanted to do was yell and curse. But, with determination to win, he managed to school his features back into something unfazed and smoothed the trembles out of his voice.

“I know it’s my duty to take it over, so that doesn’t really matter…” he said, finally, “But, having Gon will be good for me and the company.”

“Even so, his inexperience is still a large problem.” Silva replied.

“That’s not true.”

Silva cocked a brow.

“It just means he wasn’t tainted by any previous employers. He isn’t jaded so he’ll be enthusiastic about the company. He knows no tricks, so I can teach him ours. And, we won’t catch him using any tricks to take us down from the inside, or anything. Right, Gon?”

Gon nodded.

Silva looked back and forth between the two before exhaling through his nose, lips drawn into a tight line. “I don’t approve of this, Kil.”

“With no disrespect, Sir,” Gon spoke up, startling the three of them, causing breaths to hitch and eyes to widen. “I want to point out that Killua _is_ a legal adult, now. And, on top of that, once he’s actually in charge of the company, your approval on things won’t really be necessary…”

Whilst speaking, Gon didn’t once glance towards Killua, or Kikyo. His amber eyes were fully set on Silva’s unwavering pair, and even mirrored that quality. It was rather remarkable, gradually working Killua’s shock into quiet admiration. 

“So, I’m afraid you won’t be able to say anything that will change Killua’s mind. I met him today and I already know he’s very determined, himself. Stubborn, in a good way.” 

He referred to himself with a hand to his chest, “No matter what, I’m going to be his business partner. And, no matter what, I won’t let either of you down.”

The silence that followed was so thick with tension and unnameable emotion that it seemed to be just as living as the four standing within it. No one spoke after Gon, no one moved. 

And though impressed, Killua was as frozen in place as his parents, eyes and throat drying out. Soon, he swallowed, eyes slowly— _slowly—_ darting over to his father who appeared statue-like, unblinking, gaze boring into Gon.

Killua cleared his throat and faced him, forcing away the lingering surprise. “See, Dad?”

Silva didn’t reply, instead addressing Gon.

“Your name?”

“I’m Gon Freecss, Sir.”

Silva promptly looked to Killua, “We’ll discuss the other topics when this is through. Kalluto and Alluka will be at the piano to perform a song they’ve been working on for you. Try not to leave the property until they’ve finished, and if you do, refrain from bringing more strangers to our private event, Kil.”

“Of course,” Killua nodded as his parents stiffly departed, disappearing into the crowd. 

When he was sure they well out of earshot, Killua turned to Gon, clasped his shoulder with his free hand and shook. Gon’s hand came to Killua’s forearm and he laughed.

“We did it—we _did it!”_ Killua cackled, face pink with glee.

“Yeah, we did! Err— _you_ did it—“

“No, no,” Killua removed his hand and waved it, “Gon— _you_ did it. You sealed the deal, dealt final blow. It was _you.”_

“Oh, I—“ Gon shrunk back a little, a hint of abashment crossing over his face in a warm, healthy flush. “I guess!”

“You guess? There’s no guessing here, that was amazing,” Killua snorted. And, suddenly, that joyous, euphoric momentum began to simmer, leaving him a bit speechless—thoughtful, grateful.

Gon picked up on the change in atmosphere and blinked, returning Killua’s contemplative gaze. 

Killua had let his parents get to him, and consequently, victory had quite nearly slipped right through his fingers. Even as he had recomposed himself, the fact that he’d earned himself another layer of skepticism from his father was overly evident. If Gon hadn’t spoken so bravely, he wasn’t sure he would’ve been able to turn everything back around.

“Thank you… for that,” Killua said quietly. “You didn’t have to… speak up for me like that.”

Gon’s lips curved into a gentle smile—eyes warm and soothing. He lifted a shoulder, “I know. But I wanted to. He needs to know that we’re serious.”

“Yeah.” Killua smiled back. 

“And, especially after you said all those nice things about me, it was only right.”

Killua tensed up, “I was acting.”

“So, you didn’t mean any of that?” Gon didn’t buy it, or at least, was pretending not to. And, he paraded that fact by grinning cheekily. “That I was ‘capable’? And ‘promising’?”

Collar growing hot, Killua swatted at him, “Acting! I was acting—that was… I mean I do think that, but I was talking you up— _clearly.”_

“What about when you called me ‘the key’,” Gon asked.

Though fluster was creeping on him now, Gon was so ridiculous, Killua couldn’t stifle his giggling. “I was lying through my teeth. The only key you are is the key to a migraine.”

Gon simply laughed, and just like before, Killua found it so nice to hear—especially after what had just taken place. It had the power to turn any kind of atmosphere into something weightless. It could vanquish tension and allay an anxious mind.

He smiled, “You know… this kinda means that the plan was a success.”

“That’s true,” Gon chuckled, “You pissed your parents off and we’re both still in one piece. How do you feel?”

“Reborn.”

“That’s a little dramatic.”

“It’s also true,” Killua smiled, raising his glass, “Here’s to us. And, a night of well-deserved partying—“ he retracted a bit, “I mean—if you—if you still wanna stick arou—“

Without a word, Gon’s glass came to meet Killua’s, and his pearly white smile spoke volumes.

 

\- - -

 

From there, the rest of the night played out leisurely. 

They watched Kalluto and Alluka perform. Killua had Gon try the more unusual foods provided by the caterers at Kikyo’s demand. They tried not to eat most of the birthday cake, and failed. And, further into the night, they cracked jokes to keep one another entertained while the crowd dwindled.

Killua felt that this birthday was different from the ones prior—he was now a legal adult, of course. But, that wasn’t it; what made it truly different was the fact that he wanted to remember it for years and years to come.

 

\- - -

 

Outside, in the same yard Killua had stood in when he’d decided to run away, they sat together and continued to talk. It was effortless for Killua to keep conversation going with Gon; words seemed to pour out on their own. It was as if the man’s mere presence naturally drew out all of his thoughts and ideas. Things he never received a chance to talk about with anyone else.

Surprisingly, these ‘things’ managed to keep Gon entertained without sacrificing any of Killua’s secrets or deeper feelings. And, he felt that, while he may not know Gon, and Gon may not know him, if they could get along this well despite that, maybe this relationship was worth prolonging.

“Hey, so,” Killua said, after a break in conversation. His voice was a bit more hushed—careful. “There are other events happening this summer. Business ones.”

Gon looked over, “Yeah?”

“Mhm.” Killua glanced down, watching his fingers nervously toy with the stem of his glass. “If you want… you should come to them. We can hang out, I guess.”

“You mean, I can keep you entertained,” Gon teased lightly.

“Yeah, that,” Killua snorted. “We can continue to sell our act, piss my parents off some more… Eat good food.”

“A simple plan with awesome perks,” Gon sighed happily. “Okay.”

Killua paused his movements and looked up at the raven, having expected him to at least think about it. “Really? Seriously?”

“Yeah! Why not? Tonight was really fun.”

“But—don’t you have other plans, or anything?”

Gon gave a little shrug, “Not really. I’m basically free until the summer ends. Plus, when you think about it, it’s not like our plan’s complicated or anything. It’d be easy to keep it going…”

“Yeah… that’s true…”

“So why don’t we?” Gon asked with a voice that perfectly balanced both liveliness and sincerity, “I want to help you out.”

Killua smiled faintly, silently, and pondered on that.

The plan was indeed simplistic, and it did come with great perks. Such as, not having to endure boring events alone and having someone to talk to. This whole idea was the answer to his prayers and Gon was actually willing to carry it on.

“Okay, let’s do it,” Killua nodded with finality, lifting his glass. “To a simple plan with awesome perks.”

Gon laughed, eagerly lifting his own glass and clinking it against Killua’s.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh! I'm back! :) Thank you so much for reading!!
> 
> I'd like to thank Naiesu for help with the title and summary, and reading over this chapter--honestly where would I be without you, Tae?
> 
> And, thank you Eck for calming me down so I could post this hahaha--my Rock.
> 
> This chapter was really long due to the fact of it being an introduction, I don't think the following chapters will be nearly as long--that's what I'm planning anyway haha. I love talking to you guys so feel free to reach out :)


	2. Chapter 2

“‘Heard you got in trouble~”

A snide remark.

Of which, Killua did not eagerly respond to.

With a leg leisurely kicking back and forth over the edge of his hammock, Killua patiently continued tapping away on his phone.

If he were to readily acknowledge that he’d been spoken to, he’d turn and see his brother, Milluki, smug and round, standing on the patio’s stone flooring. A satisfied smirk stretching his face.

However, Killua made no such efforts until he’d finished what he was doing. And, even then, when he did glance over, he merely gave Milluki a brief sweep of his eyes and snorted.

“Did one of your little figurines tell you that?”

Milluki’s smirk fell in an instant; Killua’s voice sounding light enough to be carried on a breeze of wind while his words set an irksome contrast. The brunette stepped forward, blades of grass tickling the tips of his polished shoes.

“Shut up! Leave my figurines out of it. _Everyone_ knows what you did, Kil—” Milluki snapped, “—If you give Mom that much stress, we’re all gonna hear about it, you idiot.”

“Touchy, touchy,” Killua smiled.

Milluki’s brown eyes glared, and though he looked about ready to defend himself and his lavish collection of statuettes, he focused on the topic at hand. Which was _surprising_ at first, however, Killua realized that Milluki would gain more satisfaction dwelling on Killua’s antics than he would defending his own honor. 

“It doesn’t matter how I found out, but I did laugh when I heard how furious Mom and Dad are.”

“Good for you, Milluki,” Killua nodded, tone utterly supportive and quite possibly the last thing Milluki wanted to hear.

“They’re furious.”

“They are.”

“You screwed up, you know,” Milluki’s hands found his wide hips and rested while he nodded matter-of-factly, a hint of a smirk on his lips. “Yup. You screwed yourself over just because you’re a spoiled brat who plays too many pranks.”

“A prank? What?” Killua drawled, feigning disbelief, “I did that? You sure?”

Now, Milluki looked irritated. And, Killua felt triumph seeing the way the skin creased on either side of his brother's mouth and pinched between his brows. He could’ve laughed.

Meanwhile, his own facade hadn’t faltered in the slightest; his blue eyes remained overtly lucid, cool, with fine brows gently set above them, lips still faintly curved into an entertained smirk. 

He laughed, “Mom and Dad are pissed, yeah, but I didn’t get in trouble. Don’t get too excited, Piggy.”

“So,” Milluki spoke suddenly, “Are you suggesting it _was_ a prank?”

Killua blinked; his brother’s tone was sharp enough to cut—and it did just that, cleanly slicing through the light atmosphere and silencing Killua’s laughter.

“What’re you on about, Milluki?” Killua replied sharply.

“Well, you said you didn’t get in trouble. Right, Kil?” Milluki’s gaze was hardened now, set on Killua so sternly it would seem as if he were expecting the man to dash away. “But, you’re not denying it was a prank. That you lied.”

“‘Didn’t think I owed you an explanation.”

“You don’t, really. But, you probably ought to,” the brunette retorted. “Because, I’m not the only one who’s suspicious of you. You play too many tricks, Kil—it’s hard to believe you.”

Killua didn’t respond, so Milluki continued.

“And you’re so eager to brag that you didn’t get in trouble—that’s a giveaway trait of yours. Only deceitful people focus on that.”

“I only said that because you came out here smug over me ‘screwing myself over’. And I wasn’t _bragging._ I said it once—you sure you’re not imagining things?”

“Defensive,” Milluki snorted, a smirk slanting his lips. 

“Annoying.”

Then, Killua watched Milluki raise his hands, the poise held within them indolent in a show of confidence. “I wonder, just how would Mom and Dad feel if they found out you put them through all that distress over a lie. Should I tell them? I think I should.”

Killua’s grip around his cellphone tightened, discreetly so. Considering their rivalrous dynamic and how Milluki worked, any sign of hesitance or vulnerability—no matter how small, so long as it was noticeable—would give Milluki the upper hand. The means to get whatever it was that he wanted.

And, right now, Killua wasn’t exactly sure _what_ Milluki desired—whether this was a mere ploy to get Killua to do something for him, or if he was simply in the mood to obtain self-satisfaction. Either way, Killua couldn’t (and didn’t want to) let anything obstruct his plans with Gon.

Milluki running off, saying it was all a prank would only make things unnecessarily difficult, even if Killua could lie himself out of any tricky situation. What worried him was not the idea of Milluki blabbing nonsense to his parents, but the aftermath. His parents would surely keep a close eye on him for the rest of the summer. And, the lengths they’d go for that—he didn’t know, nor did he want to find out. 

So, Killua nuzzled further into his hammock, forcing a display of undisturbed composure. The leg that had been dangling over the edge, swung up and crossed over the other, and he snickered.

“Do what you want, if you wanna get involved so badly. They’ll just get pissed at _you_ next because you’re wrong.”

Milluki’s poise faltered.

“Gon’s awesome and he’s my new business partner. It’s true. I didn’t think it’d piss them off, but I’m glad it did. That’s also true. I guess you can say it was a win-win—for me, anyway. _Which is more my style than pranks, don’t you think?”_

Further selling his act, Killua glanced over, azure eyes sparkling with conceit. Saying with his expression what he needn’t aloud; that it was impossible to catch him slipping up and Milluki would never change that.

 _Still as a statue._ A fitting description of the way Milluki eyed Killua then, seemingly frozen and rooted to the ground. But Killua felt as if Milluki better resembled a statue ready to crumble. A crack in the facade here, a crack in composure there—a few quivers adorning those broad shoulders. Any second now, he’d combust.

But, before he could, the patio door sounded, a smooth grating noise that signaled someone’s arrival. The sound did more than announce a newcomer, it also extinguished the tense air wafting between the two brothers.

“Brother—oh. Milluki’s here too—“

At hearing the sweet voice from behind him, Milluki let out the breath he’d been stifling on a heavy exhale. Frustration was clear all over his reddened face, and Killua couldn’t blame him. He’d come out so confident in his endeavors only to leave defeated.

“Whatever, Kil. You can’t lie forever, it’ll catch up with you. And, I’ll be ready to laugh when it does.” Milluki huffed before swiveling on his heel. 

Cheshire grin in place, Killua called after him, “Cheer up, Piggy. Can’t win ‘em all.”

Milluki twitched before disappearing beyond the door. And, now that he wasn’t immediately in view, the one who had come to join them was revealed. Killua already knew by her voice, but seeing her had his smile simmering and softening as if he were pleasantly surprised.

“Alluka, hey.”

“Brother~” Alluka sighed happily in greeting, her voice light and sweet. 

When Alluka was happy, her voice carried a unique tone about it that seemed to twinkle and dance. It reminded Killua of music boxes—ones with childhood essences, with the ballerinas that spun boringly, though you couldn’t help but watch until they halted.

Eagerly, she made her way over, leaving her slippers on the stone tiling so she could feel the grass with the skin of her feet. The dress she had on, a pale pink, billowed behind her along with her chocolate brown tresses, all caught in the breeze sweeping over the yard.

Killua arranged himself so his sister could climb into the hammock with him, and when they were sitting side by side, their calves hanging over the edge and swaying, Alluka looked at him.

Her eyes were large and beautifully blue, absolutely lucid. Killua couldn’t help but muse on that. The main, physical similarity they shared was the appearance of their eyes—both the same shade of blue, both capable of being utterly transparent. 

The only difference in that was that Alluka’s were pellucid out of innocence, while Killua’s became such a way to feign innocence—to irk opposers, to lie.

“Why was Milluki out here? He looked angry.”

Killua shrugged, “That’s just his face…”

“You always say that.”

“And, it’s always true.”

Alluka giggled, “Yeah, it is kinda true. Even when he smiles, he looks mad.”

Killua leaned back, tipping the hammock just slightly. A drawn out sigh left him as he bent an arm behind his head. “He was out here trying to expose me. Trying to get me to say Gon was part of a huge prank.”

“It _is_ a prank, though.”

Killua gave a playful frown, index finger coming to his lips, “Shh! Don’t say that so loud—he might have tiny, mosquito-sized drones hanging around.” When she laughed, he followed suit. “He doesn’t need to know that. If he founds out, it’s all over. Though, I bet Mom and Dad would believe me over him.”

“Oh! You and Gon are—?”

“Yeah. So no one can know it’s not real.”

Alluka hummed. “So I take it, you had a lot of fun, huh?”

Killua’s gaze lowered, expression taking on a more pensive nature. And he thought back to the night before, thought of how he’d felt inside—so light and warm, for the first time in too long. How much he’d laughed and smiled—how sore his face was _from_ both of those things, by the night’s end. 

He could feel a new smile begin to tease the corners of his lips, but refrained from letting it show. Instead, a nod. 

“Yeah, I did. It felt really good hanging out with him,” he murmured, “Plus, Mom and Dad got mad, and if I can keep pissing them off _and_ keep hanging out with Gon at the same time, why not?”

“I’m glad you had fun, Brother,” Alluka smiled softly, patting his knee. “I was upset that I couldn’t really talk to you on your own birthday, but seeing how happy you were made up for it, you know?”

Killua gave his sister the smile he wore solely for her—something rich and fond—before perking up. “Oh. How was playing last night? Were you nervous in front of so many people?”

Alluka leaned back into the hammock and sighed drearily. “Oh~! My heart was hammering the whole time, I didn’t want to mess up.”

“Well, you didn’t.”

“Yeah, but at the time...” she frowned, “At the time, I kept feeling like I would.”

Killua watched Alluka’s eyes trail down to her lap, where her hands gently lay. Turning them palm-up, she continued, “My fingers aren’t long enough—Mom tells me that when Kalluto and I practice. So I kept getting nervous when I was playing. But I wanted to make sure I kept up with Kalluto.”

Killua tore his gaze away from his sister’s hands, and peered at her face. Tapping her hands to get her attention he said, “Hey—first off, who cares what _Mom_ says—she can’t even _play_ the piano. Plus, the ‘long fingers’ thing is practically a myth—tons of pianists have short fingers. And, you did _awesome_ last night, Alluka. You didn’t mess up once and you looked like you enjoyed playing, even if you were nervous. You’re a natural.”

Alluka lifted her eyes to meet her brother’s, and she smiled thankfully, brows curving downward. Shyly, “Thank you, Brother.”

“I’m not done,” Killua replied with a chuckle. “Lastly—stop being so comfortable comparing yourself to Kalluto. If you keep doing it, I’ll pinch you.”

Alluka blinked, then nodded. For a moment, a silence settled itself as her blue eyes lowered and looked around. She looked up again. 

“…Well… You know……. _Kalluto—OW!”_

Killua interrupted her with a promised pinch. While drawing his hand away from her arm, Alluka faced him with an incredulous look. Cross between being offended and on the verge of laughter. “I wasn’t even gonna compare!”

Killua sniffed, turning away and crossing his legs, “You were trying to fake me out, so you still deserved it.”

There was one, single beat of silence following his words before the two were laughing together. 

And when the moment passed and settled into something calmer, Alluka spoke again. 

“Brother…”

“Yeah?”

“You didn’t invite Amelie on purpose, right?”

Killua laughed, “ _On purpose?_ Do you really think that badly of me, Alluka?”

Alluka stared at him with a deadpan expression, clearly not buying it. Killua merely smirked. “I didn’t do it _on purpose_ , but I didn’t stress over _remembering_ to invite her, either.”

“Brother…” Alluka sighed, slumping. “You just get yourself in more trouble when you think like that~”

“Listen. One of these days, they’ll just stop setting me up with girls when they see I don’t talk to them or invite them to anything.”

“No, you listen,” his sister lifted her index finger, “One of these days, they’ll handle it themselves and invite the girls _for you._ ” She poked him, “Then what will you do?”

“Fair point…” Killua muttered until those quiet words grew into an agonized groan. “There’s no winning!”

“Exactly why I don’t get why you’d do that to yourself…” Alluka frowned. “That’s why I came out here, actually… I saw that she wasn’t at the party last night and I feel like Mom will bring it up at Tea Time…”

“Oh, God,” another groan from Killua, “That’s today, isn’t it… What timing.”

Tea Time was a weekly, familial gathering in the Zoldyck household. One that was never taken lightly and included all members, whether or not all the members were even addressed during it. 

The idea behind its creation was based on the sad reality that the family did not interact as much as it should. Day in and day out, every member of the family was relatively busy, so the time lost—that could be used to spend together—was recuperated during these meetings, over tea and desserts. 

Killua wished it was as fun as it sounded on paper, for what really occurred at these gatherings was nothing short of what would take place at a business meeting. Discussions concerning the business, updates on how everyone was doing with their studies, work, lessons—so on and so forth.

And with this week’s Tea Time being planned for the day just after Killua’s birthday, he could already hear the earful awaiting him. 

“So,” Killua spoke as if accepting his fate—a grave, solid tone. “You came out here to give me advice, is that right?”

Alluka snickered, “Oh! No! I didn’t, I don’t have any advice.”

Killua’s head whisked to the left, gawking at her with a mouth hanging open. “What!? Wh—Then why—“

Alluka’s giggles continued, even after standing up from the hammock and stretching upon the grass. “I just wanted to remind you that you have a lot to deal with today, in case you forgot—which, you did.”

“Alluka…”

She turned to face him and put her hands on her hips. Her expression was rather innocent, though her sugar-toned words were searing. “You already did what you did, there’s no advice to give. You just gotta handle it when they bring it up.”

Hearing that had Killua’s body slumping so far back into the hammock, it tipped. And Alluka was soon replaced with the blue sky hanging above. His groaning nearly drowned out her giggling— _nearly._

 

\- - -

 

Back home, where he resided the other nine months of the year—on Kukuroo Mountain, Tea Time was more morbid in atmosphere. As the mansion’s decor consisted of dark hues and intricate patterns, the gathering was held in a room only lit by lamps too dim to be used in any other circumstance.  
  
But, here, on Whale Island, the room where this meeting took place was alit by natural sunlight, rays of sun that poured in through the crystal windows built all around the hexagonal room. It always took Killua time to adjust to seeing his family’s faces without ominous shadows accompanying their features, no matter how many times he’d seen them in broad daylight otherwise.

But, here they all were; every member of the Zoldyck family gathered around a circular table of polished wood, with a white, lace-fringed table cloth spread over it—a small assortment of snacks and, of course, a large kettle of tea perfectly set on top. 

As usual, Killua was first to get his share of snacks. He always needed something to keep him mildly distracted while his parents ran the show. And over time, he’d found that stuffing his mouth helped keep it from uttering distasteful remarks. 

So, he sat there, between his grandfather and oldest brother, separating biscuit cookies pasted together with fine chocolate spread. As his father droned on about the business’ recent successes and what they planned to overcome next, Killua was scraping off the chocolate with his bottom row of teeth.

Tea Time was the same old same old. Hardly being about _the family_ and more about the business and everyone’s successes. Killua couldn’t help but wonder what Tea Time would be like at Gon’s place. They’d probably talk about how Gon picked a bunch of mangoes and how he’d met some cool people down by the water while fishing, or something.

Suddenly, he tensed, movement in his peripheral advancing to the center of his sight—which, in truth, had been growing blurrier and blurrier with how badly he was dozing off. 

It was his grandfather’s hand, reaching for one of the cookies on his plate. Zeno grabbed one and held it up briefly with a slanted smile. A ‘thank you’, of sorts. Killua nodded, turning his head to better look at the man.

“These things drag on, don’t they,” Zeno murmured quietly before taking a bite.

Killua refrained from laughing, and was glad he hadn’t.

“Father? Anything you’d like to say?” Silva was no longer continuing his speech about the family’s plans, but now staring directly at both his father and his son. 

Zeno blinked before popping the remainder of his cookie into his mouth and holding his hands up, shaking his head. At that, Killua let a snicker slide. 

Wrong move. He knew better.

“Killua.” His father called abruptly. He didn’t speak angrily or peeved, no, as always, he spoke in this neutral voice, though its underlying tones demonstrated both power and sternness. It had Killua snapping into a straighter posture.

“Yes?”

On a good day, Killua could get through these meetings without having to say a word. But with his father’s eyes scanning all over him, he remembered today was not one of those days. He felt silly for even considering he could get through this without being addressed, what with yesterday fresh in everyone’s minds.

“We still have to discuss yesterday’s events.”

Killua set a bare cookie down onto his plate, “Right…”

“Not only did you pull your business stunt last night, but you failed to invite Amelie to the party.”

Killua suppressed a groan, mentally readying himself for the conversation Alluka had warned him about. But, it was difficult—it was always difficult. Every time his ‘dates’ became the topic of discussion, he quite literally felt every ounce of brightness in his body shrivel up. It always provided a headache, it always coerced him into frustration, it always whittled his patience into dust.

“Yes.”

“Why is that? Your mother worked hard to attain those connections and you hardly even bat a lash.” 

They’ve had this kind of conversation numerous times before—enough times that Killua knew childishly complaining would earn him no victories. So, with a sigh, he responded quietly.

“I was really… anxious over the party. I was more focused on turning eighteen than I was about inviting her. I forgot—it was an accident.”

A response didn’t greet him right away. Looking back and forth, from his father to his mother and back again, he could see they were considering that. Considering—but, not buying. Or, more accurately, disliking.

“But you _never_ treat them as a priority, Kil,” his mother spoke in her sweet voice. 

“A priority?” Killua cocked a brow, “Suddenly women are a priority for me? I thought the business was.”

“That’s not what she means, Kil,” Silva said sternly, “Your dates aren’t more important than your future in the business. What your mother is saying is that you treat them as if they aren’t important _at all.”_

Killua glanced over at hearing hushed, breathy laughter. Of course, it was Milluki. _He’s lucky he’s not sitting by me ‘cause I’d—_

“What do you have to say to that?”

Killua turned back to his father, and paused, before clearing his throat. “Well…”

“Don’t you want to fall in love, Kil?” Kikyo asked sadly, earning a brief, but scalding glare.

 _‘Fall in love’._ Killua was too accustomed to his family to believe _that_ was the pressing concern at hand. What she really asked was; _‘Don’t you want to have a family, so you can have a child to bring into the business?’_ which could also easily be translated to: _’Don’t you want to make sure the business continues on with Zoldyck blood?’_

They didn’t necessarily care about his falling in love, his being truly happy with a partner. Him falling in love with someone they introduced to him was just the first step to get what they want. But that step, on its own, was not significant so long as it produced results.

Killua sighed, feigning solemness while racking his brain for a good approach to this. “It’s not that. It’s just… Do you really think _love_ is a priority right now? Dating while studying? I _am_ going to college, you know.” 

_Got ‘em._

“It’s good to learn how to balance your personal life and your work life at an early age,” Silva replied calmly, “If you attempt to too late, you’ll ruin both without having time to repair either.”

_Shit. Maybe not._

He was sure bringing up college would force them to realize it was all futile. But, alas, his parents had answers for _everything._

“Yeah, but…” Killua tried an unsure smile, “Starting _both_ _at the same time?”_

“You’ll learn to balance them both from the very start. If you go in with that mindset, you won’t fail, Kil,” Kikyo smiled, rim of her tea cup held up to her lips. Meanwhile, Killua was grimacing.

It was so clear why they were pushing him to find romance. If it had nothing to do with the business, they’d tell him it was a waste of time— _distracting_. But, clearly, they’d rehearsed their outlandish reasoning enough to be able to present it so confidently. 

“Okay, okay,” Killua finally muttered, throwing away his failed, faux-meek persona. “I get what you’re trying to say. But, I’m not interested, alright? I wanna do the college thing right and go into it focused—not trying to please some girl while trying to graduate. That and I’m really devoted to my relationship with Gon right now, anyway, so—“

His mother gasped—a very quiet, quiet sound. And, Killua would have ignored it, had he not looked around the table to see astonishment plastered all over his family’s faces. His brows lifted in confusion—like he was the only one not getting a joke. 

“What… What’d I say?” He glanced to Alluka, who didn’t look _perplexed_ but wore more of an  _‘uh-oh’_ expression.

Finally, someone spoke. 

Milluki turned to his mother, who sat to his left, a hand held out. And, with a tone of realization, he said; “So, _that’s_ why Kil doesn’t go after the girls you appoint him, Mom!”

“Shut up!” Killua said quickly with a heated glare—not quite sure where his brother was going, but damn determined to make sure he didn’t get there. “What’re you talking about, Piggy?”

Milluki turned back to him and raised an index finger, matter-of-factly. “You said ‘devoted to’ and ‘relationship’.”

Illumi nodded, “Yes, I heard that as well.”

“One may use either of these words to describe a business alliance. But to use _both_ implies something else. Something romantic.”

Killua shot up from his seat. “What!? I did _not_ mean it that way! Don’t put words in my—“

“—Killua, take your seat,” Silva ordered.

With great reluctance, Killua complied, but the scandalized look on his face had no intentions of calming.

“Oh. So… _This_ is why, Kil?” Kikyo spoke up, voice slow and holding fragility. “Why you show disinterest to every woman I send your way?”

Killua’s glare was now aimed at the woman, hands coiling into fists to keep himself from yelling. “No,” he bit out, “I ‘show disinterest’ because I’m _not interested in them.”_

“Yes.” Illumi nodded, “Because you prefer males.”

Killua practically jumped, turning to his brother, “Wha—!! Hey—!!”

“Oh, dear… Oh, no…”

Killua’s offense was then directed back to his mother—he would get mental whiplash by the end of this conversation, what with everyone putting their two cents in every other second. His blue eyes narrowed and at his mother, he scowled, so utterly offended that the rate his heartbeat had already been racing at quickened further. 

“Oh, no?” He parroted in a cold tone. How could she respond to something like this so dreadfully? It pissed him off—even if it wasn’t true, if his mother was against the _idea,_ he wouldn’t hold back. 

“Not ‘oh, no’ in that way,” Kikyo quickly cleared up, waving her hand, though the disappointed facade remained in tact. “I, and this whole family, will always support your individual endeavors and interests, Kil, you know that.” She looked to her husband. “It’s just… Silva, there will be no heir after Killua—“

“—There’ll be no heir after me, _anyway._ Make Kalluto or Illumi the heir!”

“—Unless he adopted.”

Killua froze up on the spot.

“There’s no need to worry about that right now,” Silva dismissively waved a hand. “This is sudden news—it’s more than likely a phase of experimentation. Let’s allow it to run its course.”

And, instantly, that burning exasperation Killua had felt when addressing his mother was back at full force. He should be enraged that this was a topic at all, but with how his parents kept making ambiguous comments, he couldn’t help but transfer his focus. 

“A phase? Why would it be a _phase?_ Why couldn’t something like that be real?”

Silva merely glanced over, showing no dismay over the way Killua’s utterance came with an irate bite.

“If your aggression is any indication, I take it that you’re highly defensive of your relationship with Gon. Are you admitting that this is genuine and true?”

Killua faltered—just slightly. “No—I’m just saying that if I’m into guys and tell you that… you can’t just automatically assume it’s a phase I’m going through as if it can’t be real.”

A hand slammed down onto the table, redirecting everyone’s attention. Kikyo had already, very evidently, lost her patience. “Well, if you won’t even admit to it, how can we possibly take it as being real!?”

“I never said I was dating him!” Killua shouted back before pointing across the table, “Pig-Ass said that!”

“Hey!!” Milluki huffed with offense. 

“Listen! I’m just saying that—“

Silva held up a single hand, silencing his son and everyone else seated at the table. It didn’t lower until everyone had finally quieted. “I understand you, Kil. No need to repeat yourself. We’re supportive and open to anything you do and anything you feel.”

“Thank you,” Killua replied, surprisingly short of breath.

“But, seeing as this was just a misunderstanding, you can continue on with the arrangements your mother makes for you,” his father pressed on, “You have duties as an heir of the Zoldyck family, Kil. You can’t forgo them just because you don’t want to do them. That’s not how we raised you.”

“You can’t force me to marry someone,” Killua said quickly—a peremptory statement. 

“We aren’t. We’re offering suggestions.” A faint frown pulled at Silva’s lips. “All we ask is that you _try_ to connect with them, or show them the decency we raised you with. To respect them enough to _respond_ to them. Not to ignore them. To try and get to know them before casting them aside.”

His father’s words struck a chord within Killua that left him drained, guilty. Though being forced to date seemed unfair—it was his life. And, what his father was asking for was just common decency. In realizing that, he also realized that maybe he had been a bit harsh to innocent girls in his efforts to lash out against his parents. They didn’t deserve that.

“…That’s fair…”

“Yes, good,” Kikyo smiled with relief once Killua’s words settled in for everyone. “I’m glad this is all cleared up. Milluki. Don’t spew nonsense about Kil ever again. You’ve wasted so much time.”

Milluki’s jaw dropped, “But—he—“

“Enough!” Kikyo turned away, “Now, Kil. I was working on arranging for Netero’s granddaughter to be your date to the anniversary celebration this weekend. I’m glad you understand all that we ask for is—“

“—Wait, wait—what?” Killua’s back went ramrod straight. “Netero? That old guy—his granddaughter?”

“…Yes. That’s right.”

Oh, he was starting to feel sick. The combination of this dawning moment and the unexpected bursts of fury from mere moments ago, were winding him. It was one thing to be understanding of his parents’ requests, but to actually have to go through with them was going to be a problem—and to have to do it so soon. Especially with someone related to Netero—he could hardly get along with that guy. 

Just imagining one day marrying the girl and having to see Netero regularly was giving him goosebumps. He had to think of something that would extinguish this idea before it was too late. Something important that they couldn’t easily brush off…

“Wait, but—If _Gon_ is there— _my business partner, who needs to attend these things—_ how will I be able to focus on her? I can’t explain things to Gon and introduce him to our allies if I’m trying to get to know my date.”

Silva nodded, “I see. Then, you’ll either have to deny Gon from attending these events and discuss them with him on your own time, or let Illumi show him the ropes while you accompany your date.”

Killua bit his lip. Both options were bad. Bad, bad, bad. Impossible, even. If he were to keep gon from coming to these business events, it would defeat the whole purpose of what they’d created! And, sending Gon to Illumi was too absurd a thought to even consider. It would still go against why he’d roped Gon into his situation, and, to be frank, he wouldn’t wish Illumi to babysit his worst enemy.

“Which will you choose, Kil?” Zeno asked from Killua’s left. He was breaking another cookie in half as he spoke. “Netero and I have history. I won’t let you abandon his granddaughter if you invite her as your date.”

“Y-yeah, I know,” Killua uttered without moving. His eyes were frantically darting about his plate of mishandled cookies and their crumbs, around his cup of tea that’d grown much too cold to drink now. 

He didn’t know what to do; it felt as if he’d been painted into a corner. 

That is, until he glanced upward on a whim to see his sister peering at him with absolute intent. He swallowed, discreetly peering up through his bangs as to avoid warranting anyone’s attention to shift to Alluka. It looked as if she’d been waiting for him to notice her.

Alluka carefully moved her lips in an ‘O’ formation before gradually closing it. She was mouthing something. An ‘O’ sound and an end. It was a word—a short one. And the only word Killua could think of that pertained at all to the situation was a name.

_…Gon…_

Just by figuring it out, Killua felt his whole body begin to react. Nervous. Bewildered. Astounded. Confused. All of these things Killua felt that Alluka could sense. So, she tried to reassure him in a silent game of hand signals they’d come up with growing up.

A tap to her wrist, as if tapping a watch. A subtle, brief point to the left. _‘I’ll explain later’._  

She wanted him to… 

She really wanted him to say…

It was almost as asinine as letting Illumi watch over Gon. But, it wasn’t as if Killua had an array of options just lying before him waiting to be chosen. He trusted her more than anyone in the world, so he’d have to rely on that. Alluka knew what was best.

Killua cleared his throat, minutely wondering how long he’d been silent. But, he tipped his head up and with his eyes still set on the table, he spoke clearly. “That’s why I’m not inviting her.”

The family didn’t have time to react before Silva was leaning over the table, a hand firmly pressed against its surface. “What are you saying, Killua?”

“Kil, we just had that enlightening conversation,” Kikyo attempted, anxiously.

“Err…” Killua took a breath before looking up. He glanced from his mother to his father. “I’m saying that… I don’t want her to be my date. And, I don’t want to keep Gon from these events. And, I don’t want Illumi to be around Gon, either.”

He heard something said under someone’s breath, he heard a scoff, an exhale through a nose.

“I want Gon to come to these events as my business partner and as my… date…” he forced himself to power through the next, crucial part of his demand. “As my boyfriend.”

Silence.

A moment where time felt warped and the hands on all clocks slowed to an indefinite halt. A moment where, if anyone revolted against his decision he wouldn’t have heard it—all sound drowned out by the hammering of his heart against his ribs. He couldn’t believe what he’d just said—what he’d just _created_ for himself with but a few words. Still, in this moment he had no regrets.

He did the best thing he could do in the moment—he’d trusted Alluka.

Promptly, he stood up from his seat and shoved his quivering hands into his pockets, “And, I’m not gonna get into any details about it. Just take what I said for what it is, alright?”  
  
That was all he said before dismissing himself.

Tea Time was called to an end shortly after. And, the second Alluka stepped out into the hall, she was whisked away by her wrist, tugged along by a very, very, _very_ flustered older brother.

Killua took her to his room without a word, face burning like a rash does—face red like he _had one._ Once the door was closed and locked, he released his sister and turned, back immediately meeting with the cool material of his door, and eyes going straight for Alluka’s. She stood several paces away, a smile on her face.

“Please.” Killua said, “Tell me—what the _hell_ did I just do?”

Alluka made her way over, hands clasped behind her back, steps coming with a sway to the left and to the right. Her smile was excited and her eyes were bright. 

“You just made your summer a lot easier.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! And thank you so much for the comments and kudos, it really, really means a lot to me. Your support is really motivating :)
> 
> Time had gotten away from me when writing this, so I uploaded it later than I planned. I'll try not to take so long with the next chapter haha.. ha!! But I hope you stay with me, because i'm really excited to write what I have planned >:)


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